Helga The Hero
by Helga's Locket
Summary: Helga saves the life of a little boy-and doesn't want anyone to know she's the mysterious hero to save her reputation.
1. Default Chapter

Not as good as my other one-but I still like this oneJ. Plot-When Helga saves a little boy, she tries to hide it to save her reputation. Soon she discovers someone else WAS watching-and now she's the town hero…  
Hey Arnold!  
Helga the Hero  
  
Chapter One  
  
Miriam called for me to wake up. I looked at the alarm clock beside my bed-7:00am. Another day in the exciting life of Helga G. Pataki! I laughed at the thought. My life was hardly exciting-I was just a regular nine year old.   
I parted the clothes in my closet, revealing my Arnold shrine. Okay, maybe I'm just a little different. After doing a few routine morning worship ceremonies, I got dressed and put my hair up into pigtails, not forgetting the pink bow. How could I ever forget it? Anyway, after the whole hygiene thing was taken care of, I headed downstairs to head out to school. I grabbed my bag and lunch box and ran outside, not bothering to inform my parents that I was leaving. Like they even cared.  
Late! It figures. Miriam had been late waking her up, and I'd had to limit my worshipping to three minutes instead of the regular six. I sighed and started walking. I'd been used to missing the bus. It wasn't anything new.  
Once I reached the school I stepped inside, not at all cheerful. I was going to be extra cranky today. I already knew I was going to take it out on the kids.  
The bell rang and I just barely made it into Mr. Simmons's fourth grade class on time.   
"Greetings, Helga! Did you finish the creative writing assignment for English?" my best friend, Phoebe inquired.  
My head snapped up. "Oh, no! I completely forgot!"  
I hesitated before reaching for my little pink book. Not only was I careful to not let anyone see it, but I also didn't like the idea of handing in one of my gushy poems about Arnold. Not like I had much of a choice. It was either that or fail.   
I quickly signed it "Anonymous" so just in case Mr. Simmons decided to read it aloud, as he tended to do several times, he would know I didn't want my name read. I did that just in case he forgot-he seems to have gotten the idea, anyway.  
"Okay, class, time to hand in your English assignment from yesterday!" Mr. Simmons said after reading the "special" announcements.   
As he came to everyone's individual desk to pick up their papers, he stopped at mine to comment on my "special talent". I slouched in my desk, trying to hide behind it. I prayed that no one else heard his comment, but unfortunately, it wasn't answered.  
It was just one of those days.  
He'd given us "free time", something rather rare, as he was looking over the papers. I spent the time reading my magazines and talking to Phoebe about my latest visit to Wrestle Mania. I got the feeling she really wasn't interested.   
Suddenly, Mr. Simmons let out a cry and stopped everyone in their tracks. There was an awkward silence. Mr. Simmons had this goofy look on his face-and I knew why. Oh, god…  
His eyes met mine. I knew what was going to happen. I let myself slouch under my desk, hiding.   
"Class! I have just read the most beautiful poem I've ever had the fortune to see! This poem is signed, "Anonymous"…"  
And he proceeded to ruin my life. From behind me I heard Stinky comment on my posture.  
"Gawsh, Helga, you're slumpin' in your chair like it was your poem or something!"  
"Be quiet, you moron!" I hissed in a whisper. He might as well have hollered it for the entire world to hear.  
And he responded with the usual, "Well ya are."  
After the poem was read, kids went back to chatting, but now I heard comments about the poem. I could even see it in their eyes-total shock.  
Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Arnold, who was making a comment to Gerald about the poem. MY poem. Of course I couldn't help but pry.  
"That was pretty intense for a fourth grader. I mean, can you believe that someone our age, in this very classroom, could write something like that?" Curiosity filled his dreamy green eyes as he added, "I wonder who could have written it?"  
He glanced at Lila, and I could get the hint. Puh! Lila couldn't write poetry if her life depended on it. Knowing Lila, her poem was probably about fluffy little bunnies, full of "ever-so"s and "oh-so"s. What a sap. Of course I'm one to talk.  
The bell rang, signaling lunchtime, and Harold was of course ecstatic. "FOOD!"  
I followed the crowd into the cafeteria, accompanied by Phoebe. Sometimes I think the only reason she ever even considered me for a friend was my power and authority. Because she was afraid of me and knew that if she were my friend, she'd be saved from the grasps of geek hood. If that were the case, I don't think I really cared, mostly because the only other friend I really had was Arnold. Although my relationship with Arnold was hardly classified as friendship.  
"Move it, geek wad! Shove over, princess! That's right, Helga G. Pataki, comin' through!" I made my way through the line, pushing through the various others to mark my claim for territory.   
And then, there, at the front of the line, right before me, was Arnold. It just never fails to amaze me how he's always there.   
"Move it, football-head!" I yelled, pushing him out of my way and grabbing a tray, calmly gathering my food.  
Arnold's eyes narrowed. Not in hatred. Not really even in anger. It was more…annoyance.   
"Why are you always so hostile, Helga?" he demanded.  
Anger boiled inside me. Okay, I was hostile, but he didn't have to press me about it. I tried to be nice to him, to remain calm, but as always, it failed.  
"Be…be…cause…I…" I struggled with the answer, trying not to blow up at him. Suddenly I scowled again, uncomfortable with the question. "Look, I'm not here for twenty questions, now if you excuse me I've got food to attend to. Puh. Hostile."  
Okay, so maybe next time. He was more than annoyed now, I could see it in his eyes. I just hoped he didn't hate me.   
I set down my tray and hid behind the garbage can, trying to get a minute alone with my feelings. Too much emotion.  
I pulled out my locket and traced the features of my beloved Arnold. "Oh, Arnold, if only you knew! If only you could see! Blinded by my foolish actions, constantly berating you. Why must I be so cruel to the one I love? If only, if only!…"  
And then, the wheezing. It wasn't a big surprise by now. Brainy stood behind me, breathing, stalking me in that creepy way he does. Somehow I get the feeling that boy waited for me.  
It was a quick action. No second thoughts. No remorse. No guilt. My fist met his face, knocking him down, and I walked away in frustration.  
Just when I get a minute alone, there he is. What a sick, twisted boy. Didn't he get it by now that if he saw me, he should run away screaming? Didn't he understand?   
Oh well, waste of time thinking about that.  
I headed back towards where I'd placed my tray. Phoebe had saved our table, not like anyone was going to give it a second glance anyway. No one had dare steal the table of Helga G. Pataki. I sat down next to my best friend and began my meal. Nothing out of the ordinary.  
After school had ended, everyone rushed out the school doors. Except me. Arnold's words haunted my thoughts. "Why are you always so hostile, Helga?" Not much of a question, really. And yet it held within it my most deepest darkest of secrets. One that no one, especially Arnold, could ever-ever-find out.  
And it was going to stay a secret. At least, until I was ready to confess. As if that would ever happen.  
On my way home from school I was walking down the street, not so far away from Arnold's house, when I saw it. A kid. A little boy, to be precise, probably only five. He had freckles, brown hair, and glasses. Probably a future-geek, as fate would hate it.  
A truck, headed right in his direction. He was standing there in the middle of the street, frozen. Possibly with fear. I looked around, wondering if anyone-anyone-else noticed. But no, no one even saw.   
In a mad dash, I ran to the middle of the road, grabbing the kid, tackling him, managing to dodge several passing cars in the process. I dragged him back to the sidewalk, made sure he was okay, and as soon as I got my answer I ran. I couldn't risk anyone seeing me, Helga G. Pataki, saving a kid's life. It would destroy my reputation. People would know that I had a heart.  
I didn't even notice Arnold and Gerald getting off the bus at his house.   
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
It didn't take long for word to get out. At school, everyone was talking about it, wondering who the mysterious hero was.   
I heard Arnold and Gerald telling the rest of the class, now in a huddle around them, about their eye-witness incident.  
I put my had to my head, groaning, trying to hide my face. Like it would do any good.  
Gerald told the story like one of his many Urban Legends. He had his own style about it. Of course I didn't spend much time thinking about Gerald. I'm not that bored. Of course Arnold was a different story…  
"…And there she was. A blur of pink, a girl with blonde hair, ran in a flash, saving the little boy from a horrible, doomed fate. Why this mysterious heroine ran in such a hurry is still unknown. And yet, with mine very eyes, I have seen her! Will we ever know for sure who this hero is? She could be anyone-a stranger, visiting for only a short time, unbeknownst to anyone; or even someone in our very own town. Our very own neighborhood. She could be in this very school, in our very classroom…"  
His words were stuck in my mind. Suddenly I felt beads of sweat, I cringed my teeth and clutched onto my pencil, so hard that it broke, a distraction to Gerald's listeners. I was more than just a little nervous. If anyone found out…but no, no, no one would find out-after all, no one had seen me, right? …Right?  
Mr. Simmons entered the room, just in time, and started the class like nothing had happened. Like just any other day.  
At lunch, I failed horribly at my tough-act. I was too nervous to concentrate on anything besides my new secret. Just great, another secret. Like I needed more of those.  
My behavior hadn't gone unnoticed. Arnold took it that I'd been trying to control my anger. When actually I'd been doing quite the opposite.  
"Helga, I've noticed you haven't pushed anyone around all day. You haven't even called me football-head. In fact, now that I think of it, you haven't come near me all day."  
He didn't follow it up with any questions. What was he supposed to ask? "Why not?" That would be a stupid question, he would have regretted it the moment it slipped out of his mouth.  
"Yeah, so? Don't think I'm doing you any favors, bucko-I know what you're thinking, and I'll let you believe it, because then at least you can't figure out the real reason. So thanks for your clever optomism, Arnoldo, but it's not going to effect me. I suggest you leave me alone, football-head, 'cause today just isn't the day for 20 questions with Helga Pataki."  
He just sort of stared at me a while. I've never really said so much in one reply before. At least, not to him. It probably took him a while to absorb it all through his thick football head.   
So, not quite "myself", I sat next to Phoebe, taking a bite out of my sandwich to avoid conversation. Phoebe's not stupid-she could tell there was something on my mind. But I'm no idiot either-I knew how to avoid confrontation.  
I was thankful that at least Miriam had actually packed my lunch today. The day before when I got to school there was nothing in my lunch pack, so I'd had to eat what was a pathetic excuse for food at lunch.   
And yet somehow Phoebe out-smarted me. Her question made me freeze.  
"Helga, are you okay? You're not acting yourself today. You seem…disturbed. Nervous, even." She paused for a moment before adding her last comment. "Almost like you're afraid of something."  
Like I said, I froze. I didn't have a clever comeback. Which left only one response…the truth.  
I grabbed her by the collar and drove her near, speaking in a whisper so that no one else could hear. "It was me, okay! I did it! I'm the one. And if anyone finds out my reputation will be ruined!"  
I let go of her collar, taking in deep breaths. Phoebe looked confused a moment, but she soon understood my confession.  
"You're…you…you saved that little boy's life?" she inquired. I wished she'd been a little quieter about it, but no one, as far as I could tell, had heard.  
I nodded, looking down at the table sadly. When I looked back up she had given me a big embrace, hugging me like I'd just won the lottery. I pushed her off of me and shook her.  
"No! Phoebes, don't you see? No one can EVER find out! PROMISE me you won't tell. Promise!" I shouted. Maybe I should have whispered, because now everyone was staring at me. Particularily Arnold.  
"Promise!" she chirped, in her usual way.   
"Good," I said, exhausted, letting her go. This was getting out of hand.  
  
Chapter 3  
  
It was on the news that night. Big Bob had called me into the living room, angry. When I got there I couldn't believe what I saw. There she was, on the screen, running, grabbing the boy, dashing away…  
I couldn't believe it. I just stood there, astounded, as they replayed the scene in slow-mo. Someone had recorded it! And I'd thought no one else had noticed… Stupid, stupid, stupid!  
"Can you tell me what is the meaning of this?!" Bob hallered, lecturing me. I couldn't tell where he was getting, so I just let him continue. "My nine year old daughter saves a life and you don't even tell me? This will be great for the business!"  
Bob went on about how the story would help his business, and how mad he was that he had to find out this way, yelling at me for not telling him. I just let him vent his anger, and when he was done, I just walked back upstairs. As soon as I got into my room, I heard the phone ring. I picked it up.  
"Hello?" I grumbled, not in the mood.  
"HELGA?" came the voice on the other end. I recognized that voice. It could only be one person.  
"ARNOLD? What are you calling here for?" I raged, knowing why he'd called but not quite wanting to admit it to myself.  
"I saw you on the news, Helga. You saved that little boy. You risked your LIFE to save a little boy. That's amazing." I could tell he was confused.  
"DOI! Of course I saved him! No one else even saw him-I couldn't just stand by and let that truck hit him! I'm not that cold! All those other dimwits just stood by and watched."  
Arnold took a while to speak. "But why did you run away? Why didn't you tell anyone?"  
I sighed. I knew he'd ask. I had been expecting it. I just didn't want to answer quite yet. Not that I had much of a choice.  
"Arnold, I have a reputation. I'm Helga G. Pataki, fourth grade bully. No one messes with me. I like the way things are. It's nice. If people found out that Helga Pataki has a heart, that I'm not so cold, that it's all basically an act-I'd lose the only thing I can be proud of. What I've worked for for so long, and I finally got. I have a name. Too have that taken away…I'd be left right where I started."  
Wow. A little too much said. I guess that was building up for a while. Now for his response.  
There was a long pause. "Where were you when you started?"  
Oh, great. I'd been expecting maybe,"Why is your reputation so important to you?" Even that would be easier to answer than this. Now my OTHER secret was on the line. So close to being revealed.  
"Helga? Are you there?"  
'No, you idiot!'   
"Uh, yeah…"  
He didn't respond. I knew that he was waiting for my answer. Oh, why now? Not this way.   
"Arnold, why are you talking to me? Why did you bother calling if you knew I'd just yell at you and hang up? You know I'm not going to talk to you, or answer your stupid questions, and you know I'm not going to just open up to you and get all sappy. That's not my style. Now, I'm going to hang up now, unless you want to do it the hard way."  
Before he could reply, I hung up the phone. Whew. That was intense. That was a close one! Well, okay, so I didn't tell him my secret.   
But things would still be different around school. For a while, anyway. Eventually they'll stop talking and I'd get my reputation back. Eventually everyone would accept that I'm really a cold, heartless bully, and forget about the whole thing.  
In the corner of my mind I smiled, knowing something else. Arnold wouldn't forget.  
  
The End  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Disclaimer

Disclaimer-Hey Arnold does not belong to me, yada yada yada…  



End file.
